


Rien de Rien

by SlytherinHowl



Series: The Ferris-Wheel AU series [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Family Fluff, Grandpa Jeor, Lyanna Mormont being grudgingly cute with her cousin, Mostly Targaryen-Mormont fluffiness, Not one dragon-bear cub but two, Past Jon Snow/Daenerys Targaryen, Some Jon and Sansa hate going on I’m sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-30
Updated: 2019-08-30
Packaged: 2020-09-30 17:37:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20450969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SlytherinHowl/pseuds/SlytherinHowl
Summary: Daenerys’ sweet summer day won’t be ruined by an unwelcome encounter.Set around a year and a half after the end of  Ferris-Wheels and Plush Toys.





	Rien de Rien

**Author's Note:**

> I _finally_ managed to finish my current projects so I have time for fanfiction agaaaaaaaaaain!!!!  
This one was supposed to be a teeny tiny bit angsty, but I decided to go full fluff last minute and I don’t regret it. If you haven’t read the other story in this AU, some context: Jorah + Dany = married with two kids. Mormonts = reconciled family. Jeor = former angry bear, now sweet grandpa bear. Dacey + Lyanna = mother and daughter because them being sisters didn’t really fit in my setting. All canon characters have been aged up a whole lot, but that doesn’t really matter. I hope you guys like it!  
(I haven’t had the time to proofread it, I’ll correct the mistakes as I find them. If you see any do tell me)

“Do the bear for Grandpa, Alys!” 

The baby’s excited shriek wasn’t very bear-like, but Jeor beamed at his youngest granddaughter and let her bury her chubby little hands in his white beard. While Helaena was the spitting image of her mother save the eyes, Alys had the Mormont look and Jeor was secretly glad that she did, however beautiful his daughter-in-law was. He never imagined he would ever talk to his son again, let alone have not one but two granddaughters, but there he was, chatting leisurely with Jorah at the outside of an ice cream parlour in Winterfell, waiting for Daenerys and Helaena to bring them their ice cream. 

“When do you finish your dissertation, son?” 

“Well, my supervisor wants me to finish the first draft in a year and a half at the latest so that I can revise it and rewrite it properly in the last six months. Daenerys says I’ll be able to finish it way before but I don’t know, I’ve got a few distractions at home,” Jorah said with a smile and bopped Alys’ nose. She shrieked again and tipped her body forward to go back to her father’s arms. Jorah snatched his daughter from her grandfather and bounced her up and down on his knee, making galloping noises much to Alys’ delight. 

“General Mormont?” a voice distracted both men from their little cub. Jorah had no idea who the dark-haired and slightly gloomy man was, but Jeor’s eyebrows shot up. 

“Jon,” The Old bear extended his hand to the man, who shook it somewhat enthusiastically, “my son, Jorah and my granddaughter Alys.” 

Jon shook Jorah’s hand and he smiled ever so slightly at the baby in his arms. Jorah knew the name ‘Jon’ was not uncommon, especially in the north, but the man’s face and the way he looked at his father in awe made him believe that Jon in question could indeed be Jon Snow. His mind went back to that first meeting between his wife and his family and even though Jorah didn’t know Jon at all, he simply refused to like the man. 

“Are you still working with your brother?” Jeor asked. 

“No, with my sister, Sansa. I think your niece Dacey knows her,” Jon replied and Jorah was sure he was _the_ Jon Snow. All he wanted was for him to leave before Daenerys got to their table, but Jorah had no such luck. The man was suddenly struck with a surprised expression as he looked past Jorah’s shoulder, “Daenerys?” 

* * *

“I like passion fruit, Mummy!” Helaena said stubbornly. Daenerys sighed at her daughter’s insistence, but the woman knew damn well where the little blonde dragon got her stubbornness from. 

“You only ever had passion fruit juice, you might not like the ice cream.” 

“I can give her a sample to try,” the clerk said sympathetically at the exasperated mother. 

“That’d be lovely,” she smiled at the nice clerk and picked her daughter up, “ugh, you’re heavy.”

Helaena giggled and brushed the tip of her nose with her mother’s. Daenerys’s mild irritation vanished then and she brushed back. Daenerys was a little bit jealous of the fact that Helaena was every inch her daddy’s little girl and she would drop everything to be with Jorah, but those little nose brushes were something she only did with her mum. The clerk gave Helaena her sample and Daenerys watched as she tasted the bright yellow ice cream. She looked concentrated at first, trying to determine whether or not she liked the flavour, but then she smiled and her deep blue eyes lit up the very same way her father’s did when he was happy. 

“See, Mummy? I _told_ you I like passion fruit!” 

“Alright, then. Passion fruit, chocolate and cookies 'n' cream for her. Now we’re finally done, I promise,” Daenerys was finally able to get all four servings of ice cream and head back to her table. 

“Can I give some of my ice cream to Alys?” Helaena asked, already licking her treat. 

“No, darling.” 

“Why not?” 

“She’s too young for ice cream. When she’s old enough I’ll take both of you to that parlour near your school and you’ll give her all the ice cream you want,” Helaena seemed satisfied with her mother’s answer. She skittered about ahead of Daenerys to go sit with her dad, but the little girl stopped in her tracks to look at the broody man who was staring at her mother. 

“Jon?” Daenerys said incredulously. Jon flexed his hands, unsure of what to do and looked at her with his old kicked puppy eyes. He hadn’t changed one bit and Daenerys wasn’t sure if it was good or bad. 

“You, uh… Are you…?” he gestured vaguely towards Jorah and Daenerys felt her initial surprise turn to annoyance. She held his gaze and placed her hands on Helaena’s shoulders, squeezing lightly for good measure. 

“My husband and my girls,” Jon nodded, casting his eyes down. 

“I, uh… I’ve been meaning to talk to you for… a long time, but… I guess now is not a good time,” his eyes roamed the table slowly, looking as regretful as he certainly felt. It could have been him sitting there with her, two dark-haired children at their knees. Jon’s favourite pastime was dwelling on the past and on the unfairness of the world. He tried to search her face for any sign that indicated that she might regret parting from him too, something that told she could at least sit down and listen to him, look at him with affection again, but the fire in her eyes was not born of desire and love. No, to him she looked like someone who wanted to burn him alive. 

“No, it isn’t a good time, Jon,” Daenerys said resolutely. 

“Right… well, I hope you’re happy, Daenerys.” 

“I am, very much so,” her hand fell on Helaena’s soft hair. 

Jon nodded solemnly, shook hands with Jeor once more and took his leave in a hurried, almost scared way. Daenerys sagged on her chair, drained of all her usual energy. She threw a nasty glance at her half-melted ice cream and forced a spoonful of the gooey thing into her mouth. Jorah and Jeor exchanged wild, expectant looks but it was Helaena who voiced her thoughts first. 

“Mummy, who was that man?” 

“He’s… an acquaintance of your mother, Laena,” Jeor answered cautiously. He had never truly understood why Daenerys and Jon hadn’t worked out, but soon after Jorah’s graduation from university, he stopped worrying about it. His son was happy with his wife and that was what really mattered. 

“What’s an ‘acquaintance’?” 

“I used to know him a long time ago, sweetheart,” Daenerys answered her daughter with a sigh, upset that her perfectly good summer day had been disturbed by someone like Snow and the bitter memories he brought along. 

“Is he your friend?” Daenerys loved her daughter with all her heart, but she would give everything for Helaena to stop asking questions. 

“He used to be. I decided I didn’t want to be his friend anymore.” 

“Can you do that?” Helaena asked, her bewilderment showing in her blue eyes. Her innocent question brought a smile to Daenerys’ lips once more. 

“Of course you can.” 

“Then I’m gonna tell Jeyne I don’t wanna be her friend anymore. She’s so booooooring!” Helaena’s comment made the three sullen adults laugh. 

* * *

The day passed without other incidents and Daenerys had seemed to recover from her funk by the time the five of them returned to Dacey’s flat. Jorah, however, was still shaken by the encounter. What he saw in Daenerys’ face when she looked at Jon planted a small, nasty seed of doubt in his chest. What if she was regretting her choices? She had seemed angry at the younger man, but hurt and sad too and Jorah didn’t know if he would be able to remove this sadness from her heart. He confided his worries in Dacey, but while he expected comforting words from his cousin, all he got was a smack to his head. 

“Don’t be such a twat, Jorah, for fuck’s sake. Daenerys wouldn’t have spent the past nine years with you if she wanted to be with Snow. She’s a slut on her own rights be she’s no Lynesse,” Dacey finished her scolding with a grin, ignoring Jorah’s glare. If there was anything Dacey Mormont loved more than taunting her cousin was taunting her cousin’s wife. The two lived their lives in a vicious circle of attacking each other, but Dacey and Daenerys actually really liked and respected one another. 

“Of course she’s not Lynesse,” Jorah hissed, then his shoulders sagged and he continued, louder than he probably intended, “it’s just that Dany seemed very distressed and I was left wondering if she had any regrets…” 

“The only regret I have, Jorah,” he berated himself for talking louder than he should when he heard Daenerys’ steely voice coming from the living room. He slept on the sofa for three nights the last time he went on a ‘you deserve better than me, Daenerys’ guilt trip, “is that I never got the chance to burn Jon’s sister Sansa to a crisp, that _bitch._”

“Mummy, you said a bad word! Mrs. Waters said you can’t say it!” Helaena scolded her mother loudly. 

“I can and I have, darling. And I’ll say it again: Sansa Stark is a manipulative, petty _bitch._ I’d love to rip her pretty ginger hair from her pretty head.” 

“Go stop them before your crazy wife gives your daughter and mine some misguided ideas,” it was Jorah’s turn to smack Dacey’s head before he made his way out. 

Jorah left the kitchen with his head hanging low, nervously scanning Dacey’s living room, however, he couldn’t help but smile at little at the scene he saw: his father sat on an armchair, dozing off with little Alys in his arms, while Daenerys sat on the sofa with her legs tucked under her, amusedly watching the game Helaena was forcing her cousin to play, her shock at her mother’s foul mouth forgotten once more. The twenty-year-old Lyanna looked absolutely murderous as she laid on the carpet while the little girl pointed a Barbie-doll-made-sword at her. They wore matching unicorn beanies, yet Helaena had adorned hers with a paper crown. 

“Have you come to discipline your child? Your wife seems to be incapable to do so,” Lyanna grumbled and glared at Daenerys, who was holding her laughter back. 

“Helaena, what are you doing with your cousin?” Jorah asked his daughter sternly. 

“I’m the good unicorn queen, Daddy, and she’s the bad unicorn queen. She won’t bend the knee so I’m gonna kill her!” Daenerys’ laughing outburst at her daughter’s answer woke Jeor up with a start. Jorah loved how his wife's laughter filled every corner of the room in a loud, high pitched way so unlike her usually serious, commanding self. His head regained its rule over his doubtful heart and Jorah managed to convince himself that while she might have her regrets regarding the Snow man, her sitting there with his family, happy and at ease, had to be a good sign. 

“You’re a nuisance, that’s what you are,” Lyanna said through gritted teeth, but her deep scowl did not seem genuine. She had yet to accept that her little cousin had her wrapped around her tiny fingers. 

“I’m not!” Helaena exclaimed and pouted. Jorah crouched down next to his girl when her eyes filled with tears, wrapping her in a hug and shooting his cousin a reproachful glare. 

“She’s faking it, Jorah! She wants me to admit I like her!” Lyanna protested, now scowling in earnest as Helaena sobbed. 

“You don’t like me? Not a little bit?” the teary-eyed little girl asked, holding on to Jorah’s yellow polo shirt. Lyanna’s angry facade slowly crumbled, much to her dismay. 

“I like you a little bit,” she mumbled in defeat. 

“Yay!” Helaena jumped from her father’s arms and threw herself at her cousin in a flurry of blonde, her crying state forgotten. 

“I TOLD YOU SHE WAS FAKING IT!” 

Jorah grinned at the scene, his heart fluttering in his chest. He scooted closer to the girls and swept them in a hug to Lyanna’s annoyance. He heard his father chuckling in his chair at the scene. Jeor nodded at his son when their eyes met, a gesture both men had come to understand as an act of gruff affection. When Jorah finally managed to find the courage to face his wife, she was looking at the three with soft fondness written on her beautiful face. She still managed to shake her head at him and school her features in a more reprimanding expression, but her violet eyes still shone lovingly at her husband. 

“_Je ne regrette rien,_ you imbecile.”


End file.
